


Only One Sweet Enough

by anderscones



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Pining, fluff without plot tbh, its called a water wiggly and u should google it, listen i wanted to call it a mf water wiggly but im a mcfuckin professional and did not, mild alcohol use, so if youre wondering what toy louis ditched to carry thaddeus with his full attention, sort of jagfnjagn, theyre all like 22/23, water wigglies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-03
Updated: 2018-09-03
Packaged: 2019-07-06 05:45:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15879765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anderscones/pseuds/anderscones
Summary: Harry met a boy who was all he could think about.





	Only One Sweet Enough

_'Cause we all recall love at seventeen_  
_If they call that obscene_  
_They know not what they say_

 

Harry sits happily in the little uneven circle as the card game they’re playing gets a little louder than it has any right to. He sips at the pink drink in his hands and slinks back into his seat on the ratty couch while music floats in from the other room where people have gathered to enjoy the other side of the party’s vibe. The guy to his right so carefully rests his elbow against his knee in an obvious attempt to make smooth contact with him. He doesn’t mind that much, honestly. It’s kind of nice.

 

Someone wins a hand and a round of hoots sound off between his almost-friends when someone has to strip. He was only sort-of invited to this party, so he doesn’t really know anyone here except for Liam, Niall, and Zayn, who are all in his classes. They’re nowhere to be seen at the moment, and it kind of sucks because he can’t help but wonder how a game of Strip Uno would go with them here.

 

The guy rears back with laughter and turns to Harry with a grin. He blinks at him with a shy smile and curls into himself to look smaller, looking up at him from under his eyelashes. It’s blatant, submissive flirting, but he’d be a goddamn liar if he said he didn’t love every fucking second of it.

 

Harry sips down the last of his drink and leans forward to put his plastic cup on the floor, and when he leans back into his seat, the guy’s arm is stretched on top of the back of the couch. He knows that by the end of the hour, it’ll be around his shoulders and by the end of the night, he could very well be in a bed he may never remember.

 

The guy is only a bit taller than him, so it’s not difficult at all to sort-of cuddle into him after the group is dealt a new hand of cards. He’s about to lay one down for the round when someone comes into the room. The newcomer doesn’t say anything, just stands and surveys the room in his navy bomber jacket and skinny jeans with the rolled up ankle. He looks around first to the edge of the party where others are mingling or making out, then to their group occupying the couch and coffee table. He gives a bright smile, drink in hand, and makes a beeline for someone sitting on the floor opposite of Harry.

 

“Hey, Darius,” He murmurs before eyeing the group again. He accepts the low five he’s offered and rounds everyone on the floor to come sit on the armrest of the couch, right next to Harry. “Deal me a hand, lads. I’ll devastate all of you.”

 

His fringe is carefully swept over blue eyes and his nose is a little buttony and Harry has to suppress the tipsy urge to bop it with his finger when he folds his legs to lean in closer to the table without toppling over. He’s a touch shorter than average, so he doesn’t quite split the difference when the person on the floor to his left offers him cards.

 

Harry leaves the comfort of the guys arm and barely has to stretch to reach them. He passes them up with a smile and receives a beaming grin back. “Thanks, curly.”

 

“Tommo,” Darius says matter of factly. “This is Strip Uno, so it’s serious business. We only just started, otherwise I’d have told you to fuck off. House rules- we go ‘round on draw cards until someone can’t lay it down and if they have to draw six or more, they have to strip then keep going. If someone calls your bullshit colour change, you have to strip. Person with the most points at the end of the round loses.”

 

Harry giggles. “ _Then gets naked!_ ” He nearly growls with a shimmy.

 

Everyone laughs and Harry picks up his cards again to lay one down. Tommo ends up playing a reverse after Harry skips him two goes later and he’s slightly worried about the hell he might receive for that after the look he gets. He’s nearly forgotten the man to his right until he changes the colour to yellow to fuck over the girl with uno.

 

“Bullshit,” He says with a hint of smugness. He isn’t subtle with his quick eye-up, or the way he lets his glassy brown eyes linger at the tips of the swallows’ wings peeking from beneath Harry’s shirt.

 

Harry fakes a pout and lays his cards facedown on the cheap cardboard table. He makes a show of unbuttoning the rest of his shirt in time to the music and whips it open when the beat drops. Everyone around him hisses and oohs at him in amusement, except for Tommo, who just laughs. He slides his shirt off his arms and drops it to the floor and picks his cards up again.

 

The game goes on for a little while. Tommo, it seems, was serious about winning. Other people have had to get creative but he’s only had to take his jacket off, revealing a band shirt underneath. Harry has caught on to how the man appears to have preventative and counteractive measures, but only for the people on their side of the table. It has everything to do with his position on the armrest.

 

Instead of calling him out for cheating, he decides to join in. Every time he draws for Tommo, he takes a peek at the card face and makes sure to take it into consideration before playing. It only makes things more frustrating for everyone else, as they keep losing hands.

 

It’s way more fun to work as a team, even if it means Harry plays for cards he doesn’t have in his own hand.

 

Tommo must catch on at some point because the plays get cheekier and a touch more devious as rounds go forward and everyone gets a little more tipsy. The group just groans when they barely beat Harry in points or when he calls a bullshit colour change after receiving a gentle pinch to the back of his arm.

 

Harry starts getting comfortable after some time and leans his cheek against Tommo’s thigh. It’s at just the right height and it’s warm, and he’s sort of freezing because he’s been shirtless for so long. It feels nice to lean into someone who isn’t as cold as him. They keep playing that way and eventually the only remaining players who have any clothes on are him, Tommo, and the guy to his right who is apparently named Danny.

 

He must doze off between turns because he’s waking up to a tense conversation.

 

“I don’t care!” Danny hisses over Harry.

 

“You sound like you really do care, mate!”

 

Harry rubs at his one of his eyes, and realizes his cards have slipped from his hands onto the ground. People are staring from the doorway at the spectacle of a fully clothed man and a man in his underwear hashing it out with a kind-of naked, confused man stuck in the middle. Harry looks up and sees slight amusement on Tommo’s face as he argues with Danny, who seems to be getting hotter by the second.

 

“Only because you came in here and stole my pull from me! I could have been fucking him right now if you hadn’t gotten him to fall asleep on you. He was so keen before you got here- just an attention-starved slag!”

 

Harry’s stomach drops and he suddenly feels incredibly uncomfortable with not wearing a shirt. Hurt pools under his ribs and he swallows around the phlegm in his throat. “That’s rude. Like, that’s really rude,” He says as he crosses his arms slowly.

 

“Oh, shut up! You know it’s true,” Danny spits back at him, anger flying freely over his features. He turns back to Tommo. “Who the fuck even invited you?”

 

Harry feels the man behind him slide off the arm rest quickly and hears the swish of his bomber jacket against his arms.

 

“Nobody, actually. I saw people standing around on the porch and thought I’d come have some fun, but you’ve sucked all the happiness out of the air like a fucking dementor,” He pushes the coffee table back roughly and stands at his full height, looming over Danny. “You don’t have to be so fucking mean, pal,”

 

Danny’s mouth pops open with a response ready, but the other man just snatches Danny’s clothes from their spot on the floor and books it out of the room, pushing through the group in the doorway.

 

Harry shoots up from his seat with minimal wobbling and grabs his shirt. He takes a wide step over the coffee table and is impressed with himself for keeping his balance as he follows Tommo as best he can.

 

They brush past a few people on their way to the front door and he thinks he might hear Niall call his name from a room as they pass. There’s shouting coming from behind him and he almost trips when Tommo tosses a wallet over his shoulder, followed by a phone. It lands in a pile of coats by the front door, so maybe the screen will be okay.

 

They burst through the front door and there’s a lot more footsteps following them than he’s expecting and he nearly panics. Harry throws a glance over his shoulder to see Zayn shove Danny down onto the lawn mid-sprint, Liam and Niall right in front of him in pursuit of him and Tommo. He turns back around with a loud laugh and continues to follow the mischievous man with the stolen clothes.

 

They run down the sidewalk until they make a sharp left turn and Harry almost yells in surprise when he’s met with a fence that the other man is swiftly climbing on. He tosses his shirt over first and then hoists himself over the top gracefully, landing with a thud and turning around to help his friends. Niall barely keeps himself from eating shit as he rolls out of his fall. Harry and Liam pull him up from the ground while Zayn watches behind them.

 

“ _Go!_ ” He urges in a whisper yell. Danny is yelling from the street and it gets his adrenaline pumping, so the four of them shoot across the yard to the back gate Tommo is holding open for them. They scamper around the pool and approach the privacy fence there with caution.

 

Harry rests his side against the wood and offers his hands for a boost up, which the rest of them gladly take. He’s just finding the footing on the horizontal support for his own journey up when the back porch light flicks on. It only makes him climb faster, but he giggles when he hears someone open the door and shout at him. This time, he slips right before he jumps down, resulting in him toppling over onto his side.

 

“Alright, curly?” Tommo asks hurriedly.

 

He scrambles up with a nod and snakes between the two buildings in front of them, shoving his arms through the sleeves of his shirt. Harry is still doing his buttons up when they emerge from the alley into a pocket-district with a few restaurants and bars dotting the street. As smoothly as they can, like they weren’t just running like hell, they keep down the pavement quietly as other patrons pass by them with concerned looks, feeling the anxious vibe of their group.

 

Harry cracks first with a snort and doubles over in laughter, the rest of them joining in easily.

 

“What the fuck, Louis?” Zayn asks with a huff. “What did you do?”

 

Tommo- Louis- looks over at Harry with a brightness in his eyes. “Had some fun.”

 

\---

 

Apparently the other boys know Louis, and Harry’s blatant approval settles them as a group of five. They go out too much for students who’ve only just started their year, but he guesses that it just makes them like everyone else. The air is still warm with the edges of summer and more often than not, they find themselves attending bonfires before sunset or parties with grilled food.

 

Right now, they’re at the former in some field. They’re sitting in the damp grass drinking cheap beer and listening to someone’s cliche Spotify playlist that Harry can only imagine is titled something stupid, like “summer bonfire vibes~~”. Train comes on and he’s half expecting Jason Mraz to follow and he burrows further into his hoodie as he leans into Niall and listens to his friends argue about some nonsense.

 

About a half hour in, his insides start to protest. He pouts a little and Louis seems to be the only one who notices his mood souring.

 

“What’s up?” He whispers when Niall gets up to have a wee and fetch himself another drink.

 

“I’m feeling a bit sick.”

 

“Sniffles or stomach?”

 

“Stomach.”

 

Without another word, Louis pulls his bag closer and digs around for a second before pulling out a bottle of water, some ginger ale, and a book. He rests his back up against the log behind them and holds his arm out for Harry to cuddle up. He scrambles to do so and settles in almost immediately, twisting the cap on his soda and taking a sip.

 

“Wanna read with me?” He asks as he holds up the book in his left hand. Harry nods back. “You should turn the pages so I don’t have to put you in a headlock.”

 

Harry huffs a small laugh at that and helps him pop the cover open to wherever he stopped last. Harry doesn’t really pay attention to what’s in the book, but he turns the pages when he thinks Louis’ done reading. He’s just thinking about how warm and safe he feels and how comfortable it is for them to be cuddling during a sunset at a bonfire.

 

The last few weeks have been hectic between school and forging friendships, but there’s been one constant through it all: Louis.

 

The man has been on his mind ever since the night they absolutely destroyed everyone in Uno. The way they intuitively became menaces together, the recklessness that followed, how afterward Louis said they should try the fro-yo at a twenty-four hour petrol station and Harry had instantly agreed. It’s not how the night would have proceeded had any the other three sat next to him, but he kind of likes it that way.

 

There’s some sort of freakish bond that’s been made just for them. It’s entwined in the way Harry thinks, causing him to instinctively invite Louis on whatever errand he’s running or asking him to study together, even if they do it in silence. Louis is firmly lodged in his thoughts when he’s making tea and he reaches for two mugs instead of one. He’s there whenever tequila is pulled out, because he still doesn’t understand how Louis drank so many Paloma’s once at a party and still managed to make sure the rest of them made it home safe (even if he did pass out on Harry’s floor afterward).

 

He knows it’s a little unhealthy to be so infatuated with someone, but he doesn’t really care. Except he really does because it’s a little nerve wracking. He knows as soon as Louis even looks at someone with half the attention he gives Harry, he’ll be a mess of worry and jealousy.

 

Suppressing an icy shiver, he pinches the paper between his fingers and turns the page.

 

\---

 

Summer just won’t give up. She gives them one last scorching day to send them off into autumn and it’s fucking _torture_. Harry lays on his bed pathetically and Louis is positioned on the floor. Neither of them are fully dressed but they’re still sweating more than they’ve ever sweated before and conversation consists of pained groans at one another until Louis abruptly stands and leaves the room.

 

Harry doesn’t question it and just lays his forearm over his eyes in exhaustion. A sudden coldness on his sternum shocks him into a yelp and he immediately removes his arm to see Louis leaning over him with a few ice cubes in one hand and his other pressed against his chest.

 

“ _Holy fuck._ ”

 

“Thanks, but who says I’d fuck you?” Louis comments with a wink as he continues to slide the ice around his chest.

 

It’s just a tease but it sort of stings, so he laughs along and tries to bury his disappointment deep in his ribs. “That actually feels really good,” He says about the ice.

 

“Oh, you’re into that? Degradation kink?”

 

Harry snatches a cube from Louis’ hand and sticks it to Louis’ neck. “No, you twat!” Louis flinches away, shoulder right under his ear, before sighing and coming back to lean into the coolness.

 

“Ah, well! You know, you should have said!” Louis placates nonchalantly before disconnecting them and climbing over Harry to kneel next to him. He plops down face first into the pillow and hugs it to his collarbone and cheek before dropping the remaining cubes onto Harry’s stomach. “Put some on my back, please.”

 

He does as he’s told but whines, “It’s gonna melt, and then I’m gonna have water all over my bed.”

 

Louis responds with a noncommittal hum and sighs at the coolness over his spine.

 

They stay like that long enough for a puddle to replace the ice on his stomach. Harry’s almost sure Louis is asleep, so he’s surprised when the other man breaks the silence.

 

“I feel like I’m at home.”

 

Harry doesn’t even open his eyes when he responds. “You’re at mine enough for it to make sense.”

 

“Yeah,” He sighs back contentedly. “I never thought I’d end up in London, you know? Nevermind that I’m comfortable enough to feel like I could live here for a while. I am kinda homesick, though.”

 

“We can go back North when break comes. Why’d you apply here, anyway? If you didn’t think London was for you.”

 

Louis kicks out one of his bare legs and it brushes against Harry’s. He should kick at him to pull back because the added contact only makes the heat worse, but he finds himself particularly reluctant even just thinking about it. “My grandma. She said I have to try something big and bold before I get all old and boring- something about swimming before I drown.”

 

“Poetic,” Harry replies sleepily. He thinks about how it’s just another drop of water in the ocean of things he wants to know about Louis and lets himself doze with the thought on his mind, feeling as though he’s rocking along on waves. “Fits you.”

 

“Does it?” Louis asks quietly.

 

“It’s simple but it makes so much sense, you know? It’s like when you’re struggling with a concept and all of a sudden it’s phrased a different way and it clicks like ‘Oh. Yeah, I get it now. Why didn’t I think of that?’” He sighs out and takes another moment to think. “You’re like… an ‘aha’ moment. Stunning. Just right,” It all comes out so easily, between the fogginess in his brain and the intimacy of the pair of them laying almost-naked and drowsy in his bed. He doesn’t realize it errs on the side of romantic until there’s a thick silence between them.

 

The swish of skin against fabric sounds out and then there’s a finger playing with one of the ringlets at his neck that’s fallen out of his bun. “You think that about me?” Louis murmurs in a fragile awe.

 

Harry opens his eyes and turns his head on the pillow. The look on Louis’ face is so, so soft and vulnerable that he can’t bear to lie in the honest air. “I do.”

 

The other boy just smiles and buries his face into the sheets.

 

Then he sits up and gets water all over Harry’s bed.

 

\---

 

“You two are a fucking menace!” Niall screeches.

 

They’d tag-teamed him to steal his funnel cake; Niall had had his feet propped up on the bench next to Harry, and Louis had been on Niall’s other side. Harry had undone one of his laces and distracted him long enough for Louis to snatch the fried batter and skip away unscathed. Harry had gone to join him then, and now they’re happily enjoying their spoils away from Niall and their table.

 

“I paid five pound for that,” He whines, stomping his feet against the dirt floor of the fairground.

 

“Do you want some?” Harry offers a small piece over the wooden picnic table.

 

“It’s _mine!_ ” He responds with a look of disbelief on his ruddy face.

 

Louis snorts at that and tsks at him. “You should learn to share, Nialler.”

 

Liam pops a piece of his own fried dough into his mouth with raised eyebrows. “You know better than to sit between them,” He teases.

 

Zayn joins in after poking a spot of Liam’s powdered sugar. “Give him a break, Liam,” He says just before sucking his finger into his mouth. “It’s not his fault he thinks he can trust his friends.”

 

They take mercy on him and return his food with only minimal carnage and Niall huddles around the plate protectively with a hint of grumpiness, angrily chewing a bit of his funnel cake. “Louis’ a bad influence.”

 

“Hey!” He replies indignantly. “Harold has his fair share of schemes, you know!”

 

“Yeah, but he never acted on them until you came along!” Niall argues back before taking a sip of his beer. “He used to just dance funny and put on weird voices- now he asks me about how to break into the help desk office so he can replace all their boring paper clips with rainbow ones.”

 

“They could use some colour!”

 

Niall just rolls his eyes with a small scoff and unlocks his phone.

 

Zayn had mentioned earlier in the week that an Autumn "welcome festival" was happening somewhere south of the city and that they should all go, so they’re currently sitting in a muddy fairground littered with rickety rides and rigged games. There’s a stage near the back with local bands playing every hour or so, and tonnes of fair food that’s priced way too high but is some of the best stuff any of them have ever tasted. The place is covered in pumpkins and hay and cider, and it’s basically perfect for a weekend excursion.

 

Liam and Zayn are talking quietly with one another and Niall is further distracted by his phone, and that’s when Louis leans over and whispers into Harry’s ear, “Let’s go play some games, yeah?”

 

He nods and they stand covertly, the other three not paying them any attention. They end up at a classic- a ball thrown into a pyramid of bottles. Louis’ aim is shit, but Harry manages to knock over a couple and win a small prize. He picks out a sucker and unwraps it, sticking it into his mouth as they walk along further and watch other people play impossible-to-win games.

 

There’s an empty booth with darts and balloons and Harry’s face lights up at the same time Louis’ does.

 

“There’s no way we don’t win that,” Louis says as they make a beeline for the booth. He hands over a few tickets and waits for the darts to be set in front of him.

 

“You get three darts - one popped balloon is a small prize and two or more is anything on the back wall,” The instructor explains in an almost bored tone. The wall is filled with stuffed animals and t-shirts and Harry is sure that one of them will be his.

 

Louis points at a huge bear with caramel coloured fur that’s almost as tall as them. “I’m gonna get that one.”

 

Louis cradles his darts in his hands and poises himself to throw one at the board. His first shot misses and he curses loudly. He takes aim again and gives it another go, this time the dart bouncing neatly off a green balloon that by all rights should have gave out. He twirls on the spot and stomps his foot in frustration, slapping his last dart down on the counter.

 

“Nooooooo,” He whines pathetically.

 

Harry grins at him and picks up the last dart, landing it perfectly on a red balloon, resulting in a satisfying pop. ”C’mon, Lou. Pick something.”

 

Louis sighs and grabs a sparkly stress toy - the kind with water and charms inside - and squishes it. In true form, it immediately slips from his hands and he fumbles for it before it lands in the dirt, causing Harry to giggle around his lolly as he’s paying for his own darts.

 

He spies the medium sized balloons and goes for them. He gets three clean shots in a row and Louis praises him, even though Harry can tell he’s secretly upset about not having had the same outcome. Harry doesn’t have anything specific in mind to get for himself, so he turns to the worker and nods at the bear Louis pointed out.

 

“I want that one.”

 

While he’s waiting for him to pull it down, he turns to look at Louis with a barely concealed smile. The other man just looks sour.

 

“What if I wanted to try again, Harold? You’ve just gone and stole my prize,” He spits almost petulantly.

 

The worker returns, hidden entirely by the bear. Harry grabs it from him and immediately holds it out for Louis to take. The shocked look on his face, mouth open and eyes wide, is enough to split his own in half with a grin. He slowly reaches out to take the stuffed bear, almost like he can’t believe what’s happening.

 

“Really?” Louis asks with his fingers outstretched but not touching, still uncertain.

 

“‘Course.”

 

Eventually the other boys find them and they start going on the rickety rides together, including spinning teacups that leave Harry and Louis dizzy with how fast they spin. It’s not really a competition because no one else even touches their wheels, but they definitely beat everyone and they’re goddamn proud of it.

 

It’s a bit silly, but Louis brings the bear with them everywhere- it even gets its own seat on rides. (He’s long since lost the water toy, as slippery as it is, though he’s told them the phallic shape and holes on either end were far too distracting for him to enjoy his time at the fair). One of the operators had tried to stop them from bringing it on the swings and was swiftly shut up by the glare Louis had shot at them, paired with a mutter of “Thaddeus is my child, and I will not be separated from him.” Pride sits firmly in Harry’s chest.

 

The only ride he doesn’t come with them to is bumper cars, and it’s only because there’s no room for him to squeeze into a car with anyone, not even Niall. They leave him with the operator after threatening her vaguely regarding what would happen to her should Thaddeus go missing or be maimed.

 

She had just laughed at Louis, who Harry is slightly convinced wasn’t entirely joking, and said she would be the best babysitter anyone’s ever seen.

 

Bumper cars has them squealing and laughing so hard that Harry’s sure he’s about to have an asthma attack, but he settles his lungs long enough that he doesn’t have to worry about it. The other four are relentless and don’t let up on chasing after each other even when Niall nearly tips out of his car sideways.

 

The loudness is something he’s desperately needed for a while. His situation with Louis has had him craving an emotional release, and screeching at the top of his lungs at a festival is the most opportune and appropriate place for it to happen. It’s not that he’s afraid so much as he doesn’t want things to be weird. Maybe Louis likes him back (which is the most ideal circumstance) but if that’s not the way things turn out, he could very well lose what allows him to have days like this.

 

At any rate, he loves the screaming. He just wishes he were screaming declarations instead.

 

They come out of the rink red faced and breathless. Harry and Louis go arm in arm to collect Thaddeus and the girl hands him over with a wink and a promise that she took good care of him. With bright eyes directed at Louis and a nod at Harry, she asks, “Did your boyfriend win him for you?”

 

His heart swoops uncomfortably, nervous and unsure of what his friend might say. He wonders if he should take it upon himself to interject with a denial or if he should just leave it alone, but Louis saves him by clutching at Harry’s hand (the other gripping Thaddeus by the arm) and leaning back to peer into his face fondly.

 

“He did, actually.”

 

The sun starts to recede and it leaves the park a beautiful peachy colour. As cliche as ever, Louis suggests they ride the ferris wheel in the sunset.

 

“But who’s by himself?” Zayn asks curiously, already inching towards Liam. They all know it’ll be Niall, since that’s how things tend to work themselves out. Not that he minds- he does enjoy his own company a lot of the time.

 

“Nobody! Thaddeus will serve as our sixth,” Liam exclaims dramatically.

 

They all agree seriously, not daring to defy Louis’s fierce protectiveness of his gift. Niall takes it with dignity when someone in line laughs at him as he gets in his carriage with the massive stuffed bear. He simply replies, “If you can’t handle me having fun, go fuck yourself. Thaddeus is my beautiful baby nephew.”

 

Louis and Harry are the last to board from their group and the air feels like it’s charged with electricity. The worker sends them up with a small “Good?” and leaves them to themselves. After two more carriages are loaded, Louis grabs Harry’s hand again and seems content to just let that be as they wait for the wheel to move again.

 

“Remember that night we met?” Louis asks out of nowhere.

 

Harry huffs, memories blurring his mind with happiness and mischief. “Is that a trick question? Of course I do.”

 

He nods back. “How come you came after me? When I stole Danny’s clothes. You could have just let me run out and never seen me again, especially since you could have avoided being on his permanent shit list.”

 

Harry thinks about it a little bit before replying. “I met you once and I think that was it,” he  murmurs. “I mean, you generally only meet people once,” He laughs. “But I think I already knew by the time I figured out your grand plan to win Strip Uno was to cheat your way through it, I wanted to be wherever you decided to go.”

 

Louis purses his lips and stares out into the fairground before laying his head on Harry’s shoulder. He sighs then speaks again, obviously preparing himself for whatever he’s about to say. “I think you fell for me, Harry Styles.”

 

Harry just lets out a weak laugh as a response. He doesn’t want to deny it, so he just lets it hang in the air and presses his lips into the soft hair at the crown of Louis’ head. He mimics his partner and takes in the carnival far below them, set on fire by the sunset. By all rights, it’s one of the most beautiful things he’s ever experienced.

 

“It’s mutual,” Louis says lightly, jostling them by lifting his head and kissing Harry right on the mouth.

 

The sunset’s got nothing on Louis Tomlinson.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks yall! Wrote this for a hiatus fic fest where we all chose solo songs to write a fic based on, and mine was Carolina!


End file.
